Cruel and Unusual Punishment
by Eumenidies
Summary: After being caught fighting, Hermione and Draco are given a punishment that sees them spending a lot more time together... Fairly standard DHr, but I'm writing because I'm bored at work. Updates will always be random and sporadic...
1. Chapter 1

After being caught fighting in the corridors, Hermione and Draco are given a punishment that sees them spending a lot more time together... Fairly standard Draco/Hermione, but I'm writing this for my own enjoyment because I'm bored at work - hope you enjoy it too!

Disclaimer: If I owned anything, I wouldn't be doing this job!

'Back off, Bitch!'

'You first, Git!'

'Mudblood!'

'Ferret Boy!'

'Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy!'

'Jellylegs!'

'Bat Bogies!'

'EXPELLIARMUS!' Professor McGonagall's magically amplified voice finally broke through the shouted curses of the viciously quarrelling pair, whisking their wands out of their hands. They turned to face her guiltily, suddenly aware of the crowd that had gathered around them.

'Professor!' Started Hermione, 'I can explain! Malfoy here…'

'Enough, Miss Granger! I have no time for excuses. I refuse to tolerate students hurling hexes at each other in the corridors. You are both prefects; you are required to set an example to other students – instead I find you brawling like hooligans – again! Enough is enough. It was agreed at the last staff meeting what the punishment would be the next time Gryffindors and Slytherins were found fighting. I scarcely need say how deeply disappointed I am in both of you? You are both seventeen years old, yet you persist in treating each other as 'Mortal Enemies' just as though you were still thirteen. As if there wasn't enough fighting to come in the real world! So. Until you learn to live with each other, you're going to have to live with each other.'

Malfoy and Hermione glanced at each other in confusion, as Professor McGonagall gestured with her wand and a golden bracelet appeared on Malfoy's left and Granger's right wrist, a faint band of magic shimmering between them.

'Handcuffs?' Exclaimed Malfoy, incredulously. 'You can't seriously intend to handcuff me to that, that, thing, can you?'

'Professor, you can't do this…'

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow, silencing both of them. 'I can, and I have. Don't bother trying to remove the bracelets, as they can't be removed, physically or by magic. The only way to get them to fall off is by learning to work together. Until then you will study, eat and socialise together. The magic linking the bracelets will expand sufficiently for you to go to the bathroom, or to go to sleep, but you will be pulled back together again afterwards. Of course, you won't be able to live in your separate Houses whilst you're wearing these. I'll arrange for you to be housed in one of the empty staff apartments; come and see me after dinner and I'll take you there.'

With that she handed back their wands, then turned on her heel to glare at the crowd of students who had gathered round to see what was going on.

'I believe you have classes to go to.' She said, stalking off. The rest of the students reluctantly dispersed, with many backward glances at Hermione and Malfoy standing there, shell-shocked, staring dumbly at the bracelets that joined them.

_'Who would have thought McGonagall would be so kinky?'_


	2. Realisations and Reactions

_Realisations and Reactions_

Disclaimer: I own nothing - not even the computer I'm typing this on...

'You bloody idiot!'

'What!'

'This is your fault, if you hadn't stuck your big nose in where it wasn't wanted…'

'You were tormenting Neville! What did you expect me to do, ferret boy? Just leave you to it? …'

'As if Squib-boy can't stand up for himself by now... '

'He is not a Squib!'

'Precisely. I think you were just looking for an excuse to pick a fight – what is it Granger? PMS?'

Hermione slapped Malfoy's face.

'Hey! That hurt!'

'You little shit! Do you think I want to be tied to you for the rest of my life?'

'What are you talking about, the rest of your life? They can't make us wear these for ever! As soon as I speak to my father…'

'Your father was in Azkaban last time I looked! And anyway, do you never listen properly? Didn't you hear what McGonagall said? These things can't be removed by magic – the only way these are going to come off is if you and I learn to work together properly. Can you see that happening? She took a glance at the shocked look on his normally arrogant face. 'No, I didn't think so!'

'God…'

'Exactly.' With that she burst into tears.

'Oh, great, all I needed! Now I'm tied to a soggy Mudblood!' He said with disgust. 'Do you cry at everything?'

'Not usually' she snarled 'but I think I'm entitled to right now!'

'Hey, come on… oh… Accio Tissues! Look, stop sniffling – you look disgusting' he said awkwardly as he handed her a box of tissues 'we should at least see how far apart from each other we can get.'

'That sound like your first intelligent idea, Malfoy.' She sniffed 'As far as I'm concerned, a hundred miles wouldn't be far enough!' but she dried her eyes and blew her nose defiantly.

'Let's give it a go then – you walk that way and I'll walk this, and count paces. One, two.'

'Two paces! Is that all! You have got to be kidding me!'

'Well, it's two paces each, so I guess that's four paces really.'

'Don't you dare be reasonable at me, Malfoy! We could practically hold hands still! Aarrgh!'

'We could, couldn't we?' He replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked across at her.

'And don't laugh at me either!' She pulled her wand out of her pocket and aimed it at him. 'Did you enjoy being a slug, Malfoy? 'Cos I can arrange for you to spend some more time that way!'

'Easy, Granger! I know you're premenstrual, but still… this isn't going to help us – it's what got us into this mess in the first place!'

'Leave her alone, Malfoy!'

They turned to see two boys in muddy quidditch robes glaring at them.

'Harry! Ron!' Hermione cried, running towards them and dragging a reluctant Malfoy after her. 'You're not going to believe what McGonagall did…'

'We heard on the way back from quidditch practice – it's all over the school already.'

'Oh no!'

'Bloody hell, Mione, for supposedly the smartest witch of your age, you sure do some stupid things – I mean – duelling right outside McGonagall's office!'

'Thanks a lot, Ron!'

'Seriously, though, Hermione' the dark haired boy added 'this is going to cause us real problems. How are we supposed to… Look, Malfoy, do you have to eavesdrop?'

'As fascinating as I'm sure the Machiavellian plotting of the Golden Trio is,' he sneered 'I don't exactly have a lot of choice about whether I want to listen to your drivel or not at the moment, do I?'

Hermione glared at him, dragging Harry and Ron into the empty transfiguration classroom and slamming the door in Malfoy's face. She placed a silencing charm on the door and turned to face her best friends.

'Before you say anything, I know it was stupid. He was just being the same as always, but I just got so angry! You have to talk to Dumbledore for me – explain that he can't leave me like this – that I can't help the Order properly if I'm dragging this idiot around with me all the time.'

'I don't know how much good it would do, Mione. Neville said the charm on those things was unbreakable…'

'But Dumbledore is the greatest wizard that ever lived, I'm sure he can do something to help!'

The boys looked at each other ruefully, then back at their distressed friend.

'Alright, Mione – we'll try to talk to him, but otherwise, you're just going to have to learn to work with the git real fast, so you can be rid of him as soon as possible.'

'Don't worry, Mione; we'll all stick by you – though maybe not as close as Malfoy is!'  
'Ron' she yelled, whacking him on the arm playfully.

'Look on the bright side' he continued 'we've always wanted a way to spy on Malfoy – now you'll always know what he's up to!'

'So long as he doesn't use this trick and leave me standing outside classroom doors all the time!'

'Come on Ron,' said Harry 'we need to go and get changed out of these robes before dinner. We'll see you in the Great Hall.'

They opened the door, breaking the silencing charm and walked out on Malfoy talking with Pansy Parkinson.

'Malfoy. We're only going to say this once. Hermione is going to have to spend a lot of time with you, which means we'll be spending a lot of time around you as well. If you upset her, you'll have us to answer to.'

'Oh, I'm so scared!' he drawled in response.

'We'll see you in dinner, Mione.'

As her friends walked away, Hermione stood there quietly, unsure of what to do next. Malfoy was still talking quietly with Pansy, so she turned her back, trying to give them a degree of privacy. _God, how am I going to cope being attached to Malfoy when he starts making out with her? It keeps getting more and more awful!_ She shuddered at the thought, coming back to consciousness in time to hear Pansy's last words.

'Don't worry, Drake, I'll stick by you – we all will. I'll see you in dinner ok?'

'Ok.'

Hermione and Malfoy turned to look at each other. Was this really the way it was going to be from here on in? Hermione sighed. 'I guess we'd better go down to dinner – we have to face the whole school sooner or later.'

'Yeah. Can't it be later?'

'No... I'm starving!'

'Fair enough. Here goes nothing then! Just don't expect me to sit at Gryffindor…'

'No way am I sitting with the Slytherins!'

'Please – I've seen the way Weasel eats – sitting with Slytherins can't be worse than sitting near that!'

_Damn! He may have a point!_


	3. And so it begins

AN: Sorry it's taken me so long to update – I was just finishing a course & had loads of assignments etc to complete; hopefully it won't be so long between future chapters.

**And so it begins…**

The sudden silence hit them like a wall as they pushed through the age-blackened doors into the Great Hall; all movement and chatter had ceased abruptly and only Dumbledore continued eating, oblivious to their arrival.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, unused to being stared at by so many curious eyes. Just before she could turn and run back out, a massive crash and clatter erupted from the Griffindor table, followed by jeers and laughter from the Slytherins.

'Neville!' She sighed in relief.

'Clumsy idiot.' Malfoy muttered in response.

'Actually, Malfoy,' She replied, flashing her most dazzling smile in Neville's direction, 'he did it on purpose; he doesn't like to see people looking uncomfortable.'

'I'd rather be uncomfortable than have help from him.'

_So Malfoy was uncomfortable too?... _Hermione opened her mouth to snap back at him, only to be interrupted by Dumbledore finally noticing their presence.

'Ah! Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy, you're here at last! I just have a few words to say to the whole school about what you may see as a punishment, but which I see as a wonderful opportunity…'

_An opportunity to be chained to a slimy git? Yeah, wonderful!_

Dumbledore gestured with his wand and the house tables slid apart, leaving a space down the middle into which he conjured a fifth house table.

'If you would care to take a seat at your new house table.'

_Great, I'm not just forced to spend time with her, I'm going to be segregated from my friends as well!_

Hermione strode forward, lifting her chin defiantly and dragging Malfoy after her, and took a seat as close to the Griffindor table as possible. Malfoy scowled at her then gingerly sat down, as far from _her_ as the chain binding them would permit.

'I call this an opportunity, because it allows you, the students of Hogwarts a choice. I have always said that it is our choices that make us who we really are; not those of a moth-eaten old hat. Any of you here today can chose to give up the houses you are in and move to a new start. Yes, young man?'

A Hufflepuff Hermione didn't recognise had raised his hand.

'But, sir, what about Quidditch!'

'For this year, Quidditch will continue as normal, next year we will have five teams! Now, ladies ands gentlemen; make your choice.'

Hermione stared fixedly at the table in front of her, scared to look over to the Griffindor table, in case they saw the desperate plea in her eyes. A moment later the bench on either side of her creaked as a figure flopped down on each side.

'As if we'd leave you on your own!'

'Ron, Harry!' She flung her arms around their necks and pulled them to her. To her surprise, the benches of the new table were nearly full, not just with Griffindors and Slytherins, but with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as well. Luna Lovegoood blinked owlishly at her, then smiled.

'I always wanted a different choice.'

'This is splendid! Just splendid! And new a new badge and a new name; white, I think, for purity of intent, and something that symbolises hope, a new start; I know!'

There was a collective gasp from around the hall as the house badges changed to show a white phoenix on a black background.

_The sly old coot! – What a signal to send to Voldemort!_

'And the name? Unity.'

Only Snape and McGonagall didn't join in the toast to the new name, and they would have been horrified to learn that they were sharing the same thought.

_There'll be murder before the week's out._


	4. And so it continues

AN: Thanks for all the reviews – I know some of you are a little surprised by the new house idea, but bear with me… it's going to take a lot of changes for these two to get together!

**And so it continues…**

As it happened, for the majority of its members, the new house hadn't really brought that many changes to their lives; for practical reasons they continued to go to their old classes and to sleep in their old beds. Even at mealtimes an uneasy truce had been reached – after all, even if you do have to share a table with your worst enemy, sooner or later everyone wants to be able to eat food that isn't going to bite back. There were even the beginnings of civilized conversations taking place, even if the full extent of these was 'pass the salt'.

Dumbledore was ecstatic, and could been seen grinning and twinkling over the blueprints for the new tower he planned to have built in time for next year.

Of course, the exceptions to this tentative peace came in the form of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Over the course of the first week of their punishment, they had each attempted serious harm to the other on no fewer than seven occasions. On top of this, they simply could _not_ work together.

There had been the incident with the exploding cauldron and the aquamarine Snape in Potions…

The incident with the rampaging monster with big pointy teeth in Transfiguration…

The incident with the breakdown in the space time continuum in Arithmancy…

The incident with the small pink elephant in Charms…

And nobody was likely to forget (or, indeed, be able to adequately describe) the incident in History of Magic involving a feather, Professor Binns and a large tub of strawberry jam.

All this meant that it was the first Hogsmeade weekend of term, and Hermione and Malfoy were confined to the small and slightly shabby staff apartment that had been hastily transfigured to contain two bedrooms (each with their own sink and toilet) a shared bathroom and common room.

Unfortunately, the doors to these bedrooms were currently charmed shut, forcing our two protagonists to spend a beautiful, sunny afternoon in each other's company.

Malfoy was entertaining himself by practicing catching a snitch. Of course, if the best way to do that was to throw it directly at Hermione and let it buzz around her head a few times before catching it, that was hardly his fault now, was it?

Hermione, meanwhile, was completely ignoring this behaviour and appeared to be completely focused on reading her book. In actual fact, what she was doing was plotting the various revenges and tortures she planned to exact upon Malfoy over the next few days. Suffice it to say, had Gred and Forge been aware of what Hermione's twisty little mind was really capable of, they would have been shocked, astonished, and offered her a design contract on the spot.

Growing bored at this lack of response, Malfoy hurled the snitch particularly viciously at Hermione's head and was amazed when, without even raising her eyes from the page for a nanosecond, she calmly plucked it out of the air and pocketed it.

'Hey! No fair! I want my snitch back!'

'I want never gets.'

'What kind of a stupid saying is that? I always get what I want!'

'Not this time. Now do you mind,' she yawned ostentatiously 'you really are boring me.'

Now Malfoy had been called many things in his time, deatheater scum, ferret, slug boy, but boring? Boring! This really was war. No more Mr Nice Slytherin, this – this - _girl_ was going to pay!

'Er, Malfoy? F.Y.I. Muttering to yourself – not a good look.'

Fine. He glared at her. So this was going to involve planning. Not a problem; he could do planning. He retreated to the opposite side of the room and settled himself down to think.

Anyone vaguely acquainted with the adventures of a certain bear with very little brain would have been struck by the similarity to one D. Malfoy at this point.

The clock ticked…

Three quarters of an hour later Hermione, bored with waiting for him to make his move, surreptitiously cast a curse towards his wand.

The clock ticked…

Finally inspiration struck. Granger herself would be the one to pick her own torment! He had remembered a particularly vindictive curse which twisted the recipient's mind, to make them believe their worst fear was surrounding them.

'Granger! Hey, Granger!'

'What is it ferret boy?'

'You're a brave Griffindor, what really scares you? I don't believe it's still the whole boggart thing!'

'Nothing much, actually. I know I'm not going to fail now.'

'Oh yeah? Bet I can make you scream in terror.'

'Whatever, Malfoy.'

He smirked cruelly and pointed his wand at her. Unfortunately for Malfoy, Hermione had learned the martial arts trick of using your enemy's strength against them.

When Harry, Ginny and Ron returned from Hogsmeade loaded down with sweets for Hermione, they were more than a little surprised by what they found.

'Um, Mione, why is the git sitting on top of the bookcase?'

'Oh, it's nothing, Gin, he tried to hex me, but I'd already put a wand-reversal jinx on his wand. It should wear off after sundown.'

'Merlin, Mione, what did he try to do? He looks terrified!'

'Put it this way, Ron,' she replied with a small laugh 'you'd be amazed how much you and Malfoy have in common! I'll explain over dinner, come on.'

They walked out, leaving Malfoy to his own personal hell…

_The spiders are tap-dancing, the spiders are tap-dancing!_

_-_

Apologies for the split infinitive in this chapter – I know it's grammatically incorrect, but the words just sounded better in this order.


	5. Insight

Sorry I haven't posted in forever; I've changed jobs and it's much busier…

**Insight.**

'I hope you know what you're doing, you old fool; this is a dangerous game you're playing and someone is going to get hurt.'

'Minerva, my dear, calm down. You know I always have my reasons.'

Professor McGonagall stopped pacing around the room and stared shrewdly at the man behind the desk. It occurred to her that they always followed him unhesitatingly; he twinkled and they followed, blindly. For the first time in the many years she had known him she was beginning to question whether this was a good thing. Forcing students of opposite sexes to live together! Her puritanical side rebelled strongly against that. As for rearranging the houses in such a high-handed manner (incidentally robbing her own house of its best quidditch players) – such a thing had not been heard of, in all the years since the Founders.

As she stared, the man behind the desk seemed to shrink in on himself, the twinkle fading, leaving an old man who looked overwhelmingly tired.

'It has to work. If these two, who hate each other with such passion can find some form of friendship, then there may, just may, be some hope for the future.'

Minerva sighed.

'I don't understand, Albus. How can they really make that sort of difference? They're just children!'

'And it is today's children who will start tomorrow's war, if we can't do something to get rid of this ridiculous bigotry!'

As if realizing that he had betrayed himself into an unaccustomed display of emotion, Dumbledore straightened his robes and re-seated himself behind his desk. Steepling his fingers in front of him and peering kindly over his half-moon glasses, he began to speak again in a much calmer tone.

'I am old, Minerva. What is more, I am tired. I have fought this idiocy with every fibre of my being in not one war, but two; I won't be here for a third. This _'game'_ will work, because it has to. The others follow them, whether they realize it or not, and if they follow them into war, then they'll follow them into peace.'

'Albus, they don't speak. They find ways to sabotage each other constantly, whilst their friends stay in their little cliques. I don't know how to make this work.'

'Then we shall have to see if we can precipitate them into a situation where they are forced to speak to each other. Leave it with me, Minerva; I'm sure I'll think of something.'

He sat in silence for some time after his old friend had left, the cup of tea on the desk in front of him slowly cooling as he pondered the problem.

Finally his frown began to lift and a mischievous grin spread slowly across his face as he seized a quill and hastily scribbled on a piece of parchment.

'Ffawlkes, old sport, just pop this down to Pomona, would you?'

_It **had** to work._

………………………………………………………………………………………………

More Hermione / Draco interaction in the next chapter.


	6. Get Lost

**Get Lost.**

'So remember class, the Yugao seeds are extremely light sensitive, which is why they can only be picked during a total lunar eclipse. This means you will not be able to use any form of artificial light while searching for them. Yes, Miss Granger?'

'Is it true that the Yugao seeds glow pale blue when they're ready for harvesting?'

_Stupid brown-nosing keenie._

'Correct, Miss Granger, although it is more accurately defined as duck-egg blue. as Yugao seeds are a key ingredient in many healing potions, we need to gather as many as possible tonight, as the next suitable harvest will be in…? Yes, Mr Longbottom?'

_Squib! Squib!_

'Four years time, professor.'

'Well done, Mr Longbottom, five points. When you have collected a full bag of seeds, light a fire and a professor will come to collect you. These portkeys will transport each pair to a different section of the moor; please watch your footing, as there are patches of bog out there which could be very dangerous if you fall in. Right then, one pair at a time.'

Hermione and Malfoy were the last pair to take one of the dead twigs (very environmentally friendly) that had been transfigured into portkeys. Hermione realised with a sinking feeling that the expression on Malfoy's face was one of pure, malicious anticipation, as the hook inserted itself behind her navel and tugged.

_I can't believe they're stranding me out there with him!_

'Lumos'

'Nox! Malfoy you squib-head! Did you not listen to a word Professor Sprout just said?'

'Yeah, yeah, "Blah, blah, seeds… blah, blah, work with the mudblood…"'

'Don't you ever get bored with that? I know I found it dull _years_ ago.'

'Whatever. Let's just find these dumb seeds so we can get out of this mud hole.'

Malfoy marched off into the shadowy moorland, stumbling slightly on the tangling heather. As the chain linking them tightened and her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, Hermione sighed and moved off after him. It was a beautiful night; with the moon in total eclipse, the stars hung in the sky like brilliant teardrops. If she'd been out here with anyone other than Malfoy it would have been a wonderful release from all the stresses and pressures of the year. Romantic, even. As it was…

Meanwhile Malfoy's internal monologue was also giving him trouble as it ranged over food, homework, sex and parental pressure to do well in school and commit first degree homicide. Overall, the topic of sex seemed to be the most important; after all, he was a relatively normal teenage boy. Not that he was some form of rabid nymphomaniac or anything, but it was proving rather difficult to even smile at a girl when there was a frizzy-haired freakazoid staring down her nose at him all the time. Not that there was anyone particular he felt like smiling at just at the moment, it was just proving a little…. frustrating.

'Malfoy! Will you slow down? Can't we approach this logically?'

He turned to sneer at Granger only to find her looking somewhat tired and bedraggled. It was rather satisfying to discover that he'd been causing Granger discomfort without even realising it; he allowed the sneer to develop into a smirk.

'Face it, Malfoy; I don't want to be out here any more than you do. The sooner we find these wretched seeds, the sooner we can leave.'

'Leave? When it's _such_ a beautiful evening?'

_Ah! The pleasures of irritating a Granger! That look of pure exasperation on her face; the way steam appeared to hiss from her ears; that little squeal of frustration when you really ticked her off. He really should market it as a stress relief: Pressures of modern-day wizardry getting you down? Life causing a pain? Try bugging a Granger – let her take the strain! He could have a jingle and everything! Of course he might have to make one or two modifications, so she couldn't talk back so much._

'... inconsiderate behaviour … simply cannot understand … seeds … expected to … you … castle …'

_Blah, blah, blah, blah blah, blah, blah!_

'Granger. Shut up.'

_The frustrated squeal! Score 1 to Malfoy!_

'If you'd just stop wittering for five seconds, you might notice that there's a pale blue glow, over to the north-east.'

'Finally! Let's go!'

'Not that way Granger – we need to go north-east.'

'Malfoy, if we don't skirt to the left, we could fall into the bog.'

'Really? Well in that case, I think you should _definitely_ come this way.'

With the smirk on his face turning into an evil grin, Malfoy yanked suddenly on the chain joining them, sending a tired Hermione flying into the sodden mud before them.

_Priceless!_

For a moment, even Hermione was silenced, the stinking mud pulling down heavily on her saturated robes. Unfortunately for Malfoy's ears, that silence didn't last.

'Malfy you dick! You complete and utter wanker! I would never have believed even you could sink so low!'

'Oh look; a bog creature from the planet Mud – how appropriate!'

Visibly biting her tongue, Hermione wiped her slime-covered hair away from her eyes, then spoke calmly, as explaining something very simple to a particularly stupid two-year old.

'Malfoy. Pull me out now.'

'When you're finally in your rightful place? Why on earth would I want to do that?'

'Because, Malfoy, we are still joined together by this ridiculous chain. And if you don't pull me out, I _will_ pull you in. I hear mud can be highly beneficial for pallid complexions.'

Rule of the Malfoys number 197 – know when you're beaten.

'Fine. Just don't expect me to touch you at all.'

With that, he wrapped the chain of magic twice around his wrist and reluctantly began to haul her free.


	7. Never Speak Again

**So, what's a few years between friends?! This may get finished… One day. **

'Stupid, smeging Malfoy and his stupid, smug, _scourgify!_ Ow!!

'What's your problem? I pulled you out of that bog didn't I?

'Only so you didn't get pulled into it yourself! I'm cold, I'm wet, I'm tired and I feel filthy! _Scourgify!_ Arrrrrgh!!!'

'You really are a total muggle, aren't you? Why the hell are you using a dish-scouring charm on yourself?! You'll take off the top layer of your skin!'

'Perhaps_ I_ think that's better than being covered in green slime, Mister 'I'm so sharp I'd cut myself' Malfoy. I thought you pure-bloods were supposed to be all OCD about dirt…'

'_Lumos_.'

A warm glow lit up a small patch of the moorland, revealing two figures; one tall and blond, the other small and bedraggled. Malfoy laughed.

'Well, not that you generally look a lot better than that, but I can see your point…' He levelled his wand at her. Quick as a flash, Hermione's wand was out of her pocket and pointing straight back at him.

'Don't you dare point that thing at me!'

'Calm down, I was just going to show you a clean-up charm. You really don't trust me, do you Granger? Alright, I'll use it on myself, then you can copy me. Just focus on an image of yourself when you feel really clean – say when you've just got out of the shower, then point your wand at yourself and declaim _Lavarius_.'

A faint breeze seemed to ripple over the Slytherin, blowing back his hair and straightening his clothes, removing the splashes of mud that had clung to him. Hermione closed her eyes and performed the charm on herself, letting the feeling of cleanliness wash over her. It felt wonderful, rinsing the grit from her skin and hair, leaving her feeling all cool and fresh. She stayed there with her eyes closed for a moment, savouring the sensation, until she noticed a choking sound coming from Malfoy.

'What?' She said, her eyes flying open in annoyance.

'Er, the thing is Granger… when I said about how you feel after you'd just got out of the shower…I meant _after_ you put some clothes on…'

She followed his grey blue eyes downwards, to see herself wrapped in the towel she always wore after a shower. The very _short _ towel she always wore. And nothing else.

'Turn around. Now!'

'Alright! Keep your towel on!'

'Not funny!'

_Who would have thought Granger was hiding a body like that under those robes! _He couldn't help dwelling on the way her pert, round breasts had held the towel up… and out… he had to admit there was a lot of out going on there as well. He risked a quick glimpse over his shoulder; the towel just barely covered her tight, biteable, ass, revealing long, slender, shapely legs. He groaned quietly to himself, suddenly his clothes felt too tight and the warmth of his arousal was rushing through him, sending the blood straight to his head. He had to stop this now. _'I will not get turned on just by looking at a semi-naked girl, even if she has got a fantastic body, she's still a Mudblood, know-it-all, argh! _

'Are you decent yet?'

'I'll have you know, it's not that easy to do complex transfiguration _and still hold on to your sodding towel_ you, you, you….'

'My, my; Hermione Granger, lost for words. This day will go down in the annals of 'Hogwarts; A History'!'

'Oh, bite me!'

Malfoy couldn't help thinking to himself that this last retort probably wasn't the invitation his treacherous body seemed to be taking it as, and grimaced quietly. The Malfoy upbringing was supposed to have prepared him to deal with any situation that life might throw at him with grace and flair; being stranded on a deserted moor with a semi-naked and totally stroppy Hermione Granger didn't seem to have been on the syllabus.

'You're going to have to accept my help, Granger. I don't much want to, but I'd rather whichever professor comes to collect us didn't see me like this…'

'See _you_ like this?!'

'…You have my word I won't do anything to harm you on this occasion.'

'Word of a Malfoy?!'

'It does still mean something Granger.'

'Fine.'

Malfoy turned around and saw her standing there, her towel clutched protectively around her, eyes closed and braced for the worst. He smiled grimly to himself; it was… disturbing? Certainly unsettling, to see quite how much this girl mistrusted him. He didn't agree with her, or even like her, but that didn't turn him into a violent psychopath, no matter how often he was portrayed that way. He shrugged, closed his eyes to concentrate, and performed the charm. To be greeted by an almighty shriek of indignation.

'_This?!'_

His eyes snapped open in horror.

'_This_ is what you consider appropriate wear for traipsing across moor land?!'

The girl in front of him was dressed in six-inch red stilettos, the tiniest, skin-tight hot-pants he had ever _heard_ of, and a thin, almost transparent blouse, knotted under her rather generous breasts. That were cold. And definitely generous. _Bugger. _

'I knew! I knew that there was no way on this _planet_, that a _moron_ like you could resist the temptation to humiliate me! Well, har, bloody, har, Malfoy! Do I look ridiculous enough for you?!! Why don't you get a really good look, so you and your cretinous mates can all have a jolly good laugh around the pensive?!'

She flung her arms out to the side and revolved slowly on the spot, affording him an excellent view of just _how_ well those ridiculous shorts fitted her. Malfoy shook himself, mentally banging his head against a wall. _'Bad, wicked, naughty thoughts!'_

'Don't get your shorts in a twist, Granger,' He bellowed over her insane ranting. 'this _was_ actually an accident… Must have been thinking about Pansy. Why would I actually want to keep _this_ image in a pensive?! I'll be scrubbing my mind out for weeks!'

He turned his head aside and grimaced. _'You little liar, you know this image is going straight into the wank bank and staying there. You might kid yourself that you're going to blot out her face, but let's be honest for once; all that naughty forbidden fruit… you're not going to walk straight for a month!' _His only hope was that she take it for a grimace of disgust – he was in _big_ trouble here. He flicked his wand at her casually, desperately trying to keep the idea of prim and proper fixed firmly in his mind.

Hermione glanced down at her new outfit; plain black, a sleeveless polo-neck covering everything up, with a neat pencil skirt to just below the knee. At least those ridiculous shoes had changed into plain black court shoes – not exactly practical, but at least she looked respectable again.

'Fine, Malfoy. This will do. At least it's respectable. And if I ever hear that you've so much as _thought_ of breathing a word of this, I'll hex you seven ways through the veil of shadows and back again, do you understand?'

Malfoy barely heard a word she was saying; prim and proper was definitely a _very_ bad idea. The clothes clung to her like a second skin, seeming even more indecent than when everything was on display. The split at the back of the skirt revealed seamed stockings, and Malfoy's mind was suddenly running riot with a host of naughty secretary fantasies. _'Take a letter, Miss Granger…'_ Dragging himself reluctantly away from the vision of her bent over a large mahogany desk, he looked down into the blinding glare of a seriously angry Granger.

'We _never_ speak of this again.'

'Agreed.'


	8. Storking Slytherins

**Ok, before you say anything, this is essential plot development. Malfoy will be allowed out to play again later.**

Hermione was sitting working in the common room she was forced to share with Draco Malfoy; at least on this occasion she had been spared his presence, tapping, breathing and huffing just to annoy her. In fact, he seemed to have been avoiding her as far as possible since that ridiculous field trip, thank Merlin.

What she didn't like to admit, was that she was, not exactly lonely, but just missing the presence of people around her. Oh, sure, any of the people who had joined Unity House were allowed into the common room at any time before curfew… it was just with the quidditch season starting, and homework, and all those other concerns, Hermione found she was seeing fewer and fewer people in the evening. Of course it meant that she was able to study without interruption, but she wouldn't be human if she didn't admit to liking those interruptions just a little bit…

In short, Hermione Granger was bored.

She tried to look uninterested when the common room door cracked open, but was unable to conceal her disappointment, when Pansy Parkinson stepped through into the room.

'Oh. Hello. Malfoy's in the bathroom. Again. Hope you brought some dynamite to shift him out of there.'

Hermione winced internally, it wasn't that she meant to be quite such a bitch, but she was bored and disappointed; it wasn't her fault if former Slytherins walked in to the brunt of that. _After all, Malfoy does spend more time in that bathroom than Lavender and Parvati put together. I wasn't _exactly _rude to her… _Now that she came to look more closely at Pansy, she was even more regretful of the way she had just spoken. The dark-haired girl's normally pretty face was blotched and swollen as she knocked on the bathroom door, and there was a handkerchief tightly twisted between the fingers of her right hand.

Pansy knocked again, more loudly this time, only to be greeted by an indistinct, but bad-tempered sounding shout.

'It's Pansy. I. I really need to talk to you, Drake.'

She was answered by another indistinct grunt, and moved over to the sofa with the air of someone prepared to wait as long as it took.

Hermione looked covertly through her eyelashes at the girl. She was perched right on the very edge of the sofa, twisting the handkerchief between her hands and biting firmly on her lip. Hermione sighed quietly to herself. _Boy trouble._ She'd seen it often enough before, sharing a room with Lavender, and even listening to Ginny's endless confidences about Harry. Whilst she didn't understand it herself, it seemed to mean a lot to other girls her age.

The clock ticked.

Pansy moved as if to stand up and walk around the room, but sat down again.

The clock ticked.

A sound suspiciously like a sob burst from the Slytherin girl.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Hermione moved over to the distressed girl and put a comforting hand on her arm. 'Look, I'm sorry. I. Is there anything I can do to help? I mean, I know I'm not an expert on the whole boy girl thing, but if you need someone to talk to, or some chocolate, or… well, I know it seems a big deal now, but in a few months, or maybe only a few weeks, I'm sure it will feel like nothing…'

'In a few months, it might feel like I'm carrying a quaffle around in my stomach.' Pansy slammed her hand over her mouth, trying to force back the words that had burst out without her truly realising it.

'You're… you're pregnant?'

'I think so. I'm late. I'm never late.'

'And Malfoy… Malfoy?'

For the first time since entering the room Pansy laughed, a bitter little laugh, but a laugh all the same. 'Don't be ridiculous! Drake's like my brother – I could never go there.'

'Then, who… do you know…?'

'Oh, that's right isn't it? Slytherin sluts will drop their knickers for anyone! If they want to know who knocked them up, they have to go check the graffiti in the Boy's Loos, just to get a list of suspects, right?' Pansy leapt to her feet and began angrily pacing the room.

"Pansy, I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't mean it like that, I promise. I'm just not very good at this whole relationship advice thing – I've never been in this situation before!'

'And you think I have?' She returned to the sofa and sat down, exhausted by the outburst of emotion. 'He was my first. I really cared about him. I thought he cared about me, could see past the whole house thing, but when I went to talk to him, he, he just laughed… Oh Granger, what am I going to do? My parents are going to kill me, I'm not ready to have a child…' Her voice trailed off, and she began twisting the handkerchief between her fingers again.

A decisive look settled over Hermione's face. 'First, we're going to get you sorted out; then we're going to go and find this bastard and hex his balls off.'

A surprised laugh burst from Pansy. 'You know, Granger, you might not be so bad at this relationship advice thing after all!'

Hermione grinned. 'Did the pregnancy test tell you how far along you are?'

'I haven't done a test Granger. You're such an innocent! Don't you know all contraceptive charms, potions and pregnancy test charms trigger an alarm if they're used within the grounds of Hogwarts? Oh, you won't find it in that _History_ book you like so much, but it's true. Some of the governors seem to think that doing that will protect the virginity of their precious, pure, daughters!'

'Then you don't even _know_ you're pregnant? Right, come on.'

'What are you doing Granger?'

'I'm going to write to my Mum. My parents live just down the road from a 24-hour Tesco, if you take the letter to the owlery straight away, (you'll have to take it because, well, you know – handcuffs!) we should get a response by breakfast time. Stupid idiots won't have thought about Muggles, they never do! At least then you'll know.'

'I have no idea _what_ you're saying here Granger.'

'Muggles want to find out if they're pregnant or not too, Pansy. It's a little less neat, but it's fairly accurate. Here.'

With a flourish of her quill, she signed the letter and quickly addressed the front. 'If you ask the owl to wait, it should be back here by breakfast time. You can come up here and use the loo in my room – it'll be a bit more private for you.'

Pansy took the letter dubiously.

'It's better to know exactly where you stand. Then you can start to plan.'

'Use the loo…?'

'Oh. Yeah. I hate to be the one to tell you this Pansy, but you're going to have to learn to pee on a stick….'


	9. A Bird Makes A Delivery

As the school sat at breakfast the next morning, an extremely tired looking owl swooped over the central table and deposited a suspiciously large package in front of Hermione. There was a lull in the chatter and even Ron looked up curiously from his plate as Hermione composedly picked up the package and placed it on the floor under her seat.

'Aren't you going to open that Mione? Could be something interesting.'

'Thanks Ron, but I already know what's in it.'

'Yeah, but I don't – yet!'

From the corner of her eye, Hermione was aware of the slight tension in Pansy's face as she tried to look totally uninterested in the conversation taking place just down the table from her. Hermione leaned forward, as if she was about to confide a great secret to Ron.

'Well Ron, if you really feel that you need _more_ information about what happens to girls of a certain age every month, and the products that they have to use when they…'

Ron turned purple and began to splutter. 'Merlin, Mione! I'm eating here!'

Hermione smiled sweetly back at him. 'Well, you did ask me Ron.' She glanced casually along the table, pleased to see the hint of a smirk on the corner of Pansy's mouth as she lifted a goblet to her lips. _It would be nice to have a friend who got my sense of humour a little more often._

All Slytherin and Griffindor sixth-formers had a free period first thing, and Malfoy and Hermione had agreed at the very beginning that this time would be spent up in their common room; her studying and him messing around with his mates. Today, however, Malfoy was in a grouchy mood, and had banished most of his friends with a scowl or an evil glare. Most of his friends.

'Merlin, Pansy, can't you get a hint? I need some space this morning; do you have to hang around?'

'What makes you think I'm coming to see you, Drake? I need to borrow some notes from Hermione here.'

'Hermione? Hermione? Did I slip into some weird alternate universe here? Since when do you refer to that by its first name?'

The Slytherin girl turned on him fiercely, fists balled against her sides. 'Oh for fuck's sake, grow up Drake! Some of us have bigger things to worry about than your pathetic prejudices right now. If you weren't so totally vain and self-absorbed, then you just might have a hint of what I'm talking about. But you weren't there for me when I needed you, so there's no point snivelling about it now that I'm taking help from the person who was there for me. Come on Hermione.'

With that, the two girls swept through into Hermione's room, slamming the door behind them. Malfoy stood in the centre of the room, mouth open in shock. _Talk about overreacting to a failing grade – must be her time of the month too!_

The girls sat on Hermione's bed, studiously avoiding looking at the white stick over on her dressing-table.

'Have you thought about what you'll do, if, you know?'

Pansy sighed. 'Honestly? I haven't a clue. I mean, I know what the options are, but it all seems so far away right now. How can I ever make a decision like that?'

'If there's anything I can do; you know I'm here for you, right?'

'You know something Granger, Hermione, you're not that bad. Thanks. I do appreciate it, really.'

The clock next to the bed pinged, but neither girl moved. Pansy slowly turned to Hermione. 'I don't think I can do this. Would you…?'

Hermione nodded and swallowed nervously. She pushed herself to her feet and made her way hesitantly across the room. The table suddenly seemed enormous, the white stick little more than a dot on the large expanse. She reached out and picked it up, turning to face Pansy.

'It's…' The words seemed to be stuck in her throat '… it's negative.'

Both girls shrieked, jumping up and down, and bouncing on the bed. Their hysteria was only halted by a massive pounding on the bedroom door.

'Damn it, Pansy! You're only allowed to murder her if I get to watch!'

Then burst out laughing again, more calmly this time, quietening down to a grin, Pansy smiling radiantly through her tears.

Hermione grinned again. 'Right, you're sorted. Now, what's the name of this bastard we need to hex?'


	10. Confrontations

**Time to let Malfoy out to play…**

She couldn't believe it. She managed to get along with most people – she'd even managed to forge some form of friendship with Pansy Parkinson over the last week, although, in fairness, it was fairly tentative, and she wasn't sure Pansy trusted her entirely…

Sodding Malfoy.

Hermione had thought that life would get easier over time, that they would settle down into a routine and find a way to ignore each other. Well, as far as was possible for two people handcuffed together everywhere except their own dorm rooms. The only problem with this totally rational thought was, of course, that the other person was Draco, King of all Smeg-heads, Malfoy.

She had clearly worked out detailed and fair rotas, that she had colour-coded and pinned on the notice board, not to mention putting a spare copy under Malfoy's door, but he persistently and blatantly ignored these, refusing to tidy up, monopolising the common room, and now, now! She had been absolutely clear that he had access to the bathroom between 7.00 and 7.12, plenty of time for him to shower and get _completely_ ready. It was now 7.20, and if he didn't get his blond backside out of the bathroom NOW, she was going to have to go through the day without washing her hair. Again.

She let out a small, strangled squeal of frustration. Enough. She walked over to the bathroom door and began hammering on it.

'Malfoy! It is now 7.21 precisely. You're nine minutes late. It's my turn! Get out! Now!'

The response that came back through the door was muffled by the heavy oak and the thick clouds of steam, but the intention behind it was perfectly clear.

' – off Granger!'

'That _does_ it! I have completely had it with you, you pathetic little toe-rag! _Gelidus!_'

She shot the freezing charm through the key-hole and stood back. If that didn't work, she was turning the sodding shower water to _spiders_!

There was an almighty roar of anger from the bathroom and the door slammed open, revealing a very wet, and very angry Malfoy, clutching a towel around his waist. He advanced on her slowly, backing her into the corner. Suddenly un-nerved by what she had precipitated, Hermione burrowed back against the wall and averted her face. He was too close. She was suddenly overwhelmingly aware of how much bigger that her he was; how much stronger, the lean muscles standing out on his chest and forearms. She could feel the warmth of his skin radiating against her face, smell the clean, spiciness of him.

'Please. You're, you're too close.' She barely recognised her own voice, so timid and uncertain. Her chest had tightened inexplicably, and her head was swimming, leaving her strangely dizzy.

'You wanted me out of the bathroom Granger, well, you got it – but you're going to get a few home truths as well that you might not like quite so much. You think you're so fricking wonderful, that you get to order everyone else's lives for them. Well, I've got news for you. It doesn't work like that. No-one, and I mean no-one, is ever going to tell Draco Malfoy what to do or when to do it.'

'Malfoy, please.'

'You want more time in the bathroom? Get your backside out of bed earlier and use it before me! You may only want to spend twelve minutes on your personal appearance, but the rest of the world actually prefers to look good. You're pathetic. Hiding behind your books, and your baggy, dowdy clothes and that ridiculous hair, terrified of growing up, having to make decisions, being seen…'

Either Ron or Harry would have recognised the expression that came over Hermione's face at that moment; the tightening of the eyes and lips, that slight defiant tilt to the chin. Ron or Harry would have taken that opportunity to run and hide, but Malfoy was not Ron, or even Harry, and for the first time in her life, Hermione Granger wasn't going to be given a chance to even speak.

'You're nothing but a sad, pathetic, little, _girl_, passing judgement on the rest of the world, but too scared to grow up and actually join it; afraid to be alive, afraid to live a little. You aren't even worth my time.'

With that, he spun around and slammed into his room, leaving a few wisps of steam and a glaring Hermione behind him.

She lifted her chin proudly, Draco Malfoy wasn't going to know what had hit him; Hermione Granger was not afraid of anything.


End file.
